


Forever From Another Perspective

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [91]
Category: IWA Mid-South, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: (...there may or may not be some backround Chuck/Rico here), (Hero and Knuckles being the parents of this rowdy crew amuses me though), (I could never get into that), (because that is an old ship of mine), (but just to be safe), (even though we all know that Necro-dad has everything under control), (no Hero/Knuckles though), (which I should think the Chuck tag would already imply), Chuck Is Eternally Self-Deprcating, Inappropriate Humor, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Racially Insensitive Comments, Ricochet Is A Dick, Swearing, mild violence, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, offensive stereotypes, stealth angst, stealth boyfriends, stealth shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14452959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: Generico defends what is his, while Kevin is just trying to take a goddamn nap.Everyone else is just confused.





	Forever From Another Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> So, we've had a part from Cabana's perspective, and now we have one from Chuck's. I know Chuck probably is not what you came here for, but bear with me please. I love my little problematic boy, with far more enthusiasm than is probably necessary, but he is a delight and I want all of my tiny indie dorks in here if I can shoe-horn them in.
> 
> Although, I probably won't cover the whole laxatives incident. Was that in PWG? I'd have to look it up, but I feel like that was a PWG thing.
> 
> Yeah, anyway, hope you like it!

“Heyo, Little mexican-canadian. How have you been? Are the maple syrup flavored tacos treating you well?” Chuck makes a face at his own running commentary, accepting the delighted hug from the shirtless boy wonder. “Is that racist? I feel like that is racist.

Generico just stares at him like an enthusiastic, if slightly confused puppy, for a minute, before shrugging and going in for another bone-crushing hug. Chuck sighs, hoping that he and Generico could have had a stimulating conversation about Chuck’s internalized issues with using crude, inappropriately insensitive humor as a coping mechanism, in lieu of Chuck having to deal with Rico and Tyler’s drama.

The irony is not lost on Chuck, as he spits tassels out of his mouth.

“Amigo, es-”

Chuck jumps back, startled, when Generico’s babbling is cut off mid-sentence, a green and black mess of sequined cape darting between them, tackling Generico to the floor in a flutter of glitter and bare feet.

“What the fuck,” is all Chuck manages to muster, as Delirious wrestles what looks to be a tiny, multi-colored button from the inside of Generico’s left boot, crowing triumphantly when he gets the trinket free. Generico doesn’t take that well though, and he snarls dangerously from the floor, bolting up and pouncing on Delirious with more force than Chuck would have given the tiny dorky luchador credit for.

Delirious gets face planted into the floor, Generico sitting atop his back and hammering away with balled up fists. The bauble slips from Delirious’ grasp, though neither seem to notice, rolling across the floor until it meets the insurmountable barrier of Chuck’s frayed, duct-tape covered boots.

He leans down and captures the glittery prize, that is apparently so precious that the two crazy weirdos on the floor find it worthy of fighting over. Chuck realises that it is not a button, but a marble, when he picks it up, rolling it around in his palm to the tune of incoherent shrieks and unhappy seething.

The two on the floor don’t even seem to notice that it is gone, being too preoccupied beating the shit out of each other. Delirious shrieks something that may or may not be ‘shiny’, and then dives back in, driving a snarling Generico to the ground with a clattering thump that rattles the hollow recesses of Chuck’s skull.

Goddamn, he would be the sickest poet ever.

“I’d slit my own throat, if I ever had to listen to you recite some moody-ass angsty slam poetry,” Ricochet quips, like the self absorbed jackass that he is, one unfairly muscled hand coming up to slap Chuck on the back with an unnecessary amount of force, as the hyper-dick passes through the room aimlessly, as if he has nothing fucking better to do with his precious time.

“Rico, I’m already feeling inadequate as a human being and as a wrestler, so why don’t you go sproing off somewhere else?” Chuck barks with more emotion than he wanted, internally cringing at his own whiny pleading, even as he squirrels away from Rico’s touch like a nervous prom queen at homecoming.

Wait.

That’s not the right-

“Don’t be such a sensitive loser,” Ricochet sing-songs lighty, a laugh in his voice as he swaggers off like the infuriatingly sexy motherfucker that he is, waving at Chuck merrily over his shoulder as he dances out of the room like an incredibly buff trapeze artist.

Although thinking about it, Chuck supposes that trapeze artist are all really roided up looking, what with all the crazy shit that they hang themselves from.

“Like you could ever pull off a tightrope walk, you massive douche!” Chuck hollers, just to spite himself, mostly. No one sabotages Chuck Taylor like he sabotages himself, after all. “I’m surprised that you can make it through the goddamn doorway under the massive weight of that hog of yours!”

Hmm. Not his best insult.

Ricochet not so handily dealt with, Chuck looks back over at the two scuffling idiots, still embroiled in their slug-fest on the linoleum, growling at each other with far more venom than Chuck thinks that the situation really deserves.

“The christ is going on down here?”

Chuck turns, waving his hand through the air in greeting before he realizes what he is doing, and exactly how lame it must look, and stops. Hero and Knuckles don’t seem to notice as they approach, looking like the world's most stereotypical overly-concerned parents.

“I’m not actually sure? Something about Generico’s crack pipe and Deli-Meat’s fascination with balls?” Chuck tries, still trying to piece together what this overly aggressive posturing is about himself. He weathers the startled look from Hero, and the patronizing worry from Knuckles.

“Hon, when was the last time you got laid?” She asks, like she’s his disappointed parent.

“I get laid all the time,” He says defiantly, ignoring the snort from Low-Ki’s bald-headed horse face.

“Hey fuck you Ki-” He scrunches his face up, searching his brain for an insulting nickname, and coming up dry. “Your mother should have went through with the abortion she couldn't pay for, before your ET-lookin’ ass was born!”

So maybe he didn’t ignore it.

“Chuck, chill the fuck out.”

“Don’t you try to intervene Superman-Hero-boy! I heard about what happened the last time you tried to butt into other people's personal issues.”

“I was fucking trying to take a goddamn nap, what in the fuck is happening in here-” Chuck cringes backwards, almost dropping the marble in his haste to move away from Kevin’s voice, which is all of a sudden far too close and far too grumpy.

“Ah, uh- here.” Chuck settles for a peace offering, handing Kevin the marble and hoping that his death comes swiftly enough that he doesn’t feel his own skin being torn from his bad decision making carcass.

Steen doesn’t rip him limb from limb though. Instead, the big fucker just looks down at the marble in his hands, a weirdly soft, and disturbingly tender look on his face as he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger, something wistful glittering in his unfathomable gaze.

“Come on, Sami. Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chuck Taylor, because reasons. Actually, that is a lie. I had no reason to put him in here (other than the tangential fact that he was indeed at We're No Joke! which is what this particular IWA show was called) and I don't need one. Chuck all day, every day. He is one of my most favorite problem boys (besides baby!Steen, of course) and I have been itching for an excuse to shove him awkwardly into this series, in all his fumbling, dumbfuck glory.


End file.
